


All The Time In The World

by princesskay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Dark, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s04e08 Year of Hell, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Peril, Smut, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: With Voyager in tatters and the Krenim attacking at any moment, there isn't much time before it could all be over. The prospect of death prompts Kathryn to do something hasty.





	All The Time In The World

In the silence, the tick of the 19th century timepiece was barely audible over the distant hum and clank of Voyager’s sluggish engines. The silver chain glinted in the dim illumination of the emergency lights. It was cool in the palm of his hand, yet growing warmer as he stood staring at the slender hands ever creeping toward the next second. 

_ Recycle it. That watch represents a meal, a hypospray, a pair of boots.  _

Chakotay drew in a deep breath, considering the weight of Kathryn’s words. She was the captain; and she was right. It didn’t matter how long ago he had replicated the timepiece. Her wearing it would send the wrong message. 

_ It could be the difference between life or death one day.  _

The words were somber and true, a sickening reminder of just how desperate they’d become in the space of two months. But whether it could force him to put the gift in the recycler or not was yet to be determined. 

The commander inside him ordered him to stop being so sentimental. 

The lover resisted, whispering that the little signs of affection and adoration were what really mattered in such dark times. 

Chakotay startled when his comm badge chirped with an incoming message. 

“Janeway to Chakotay.”

He tapped the badge to reply. “Yes, Captain?”

“Could you come to the my ready room, please?”

Chakotay glanced at the watch. It told the true time. On Earth, it would have been three o’clock in the morning. Only the night crew should be awake right now, but it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. 

Without another moment’s thought, he put the timepiece under the pillow on his bed and left his quarters. 

The hallway lights flickered, barely alive to guide his way to the nearest Jeffries tube. With the turbo lifts out of service, just getting to the bridge was a chore. Had he been summoned by anyone else, he may have been resentful. Tonight, he welcomed the distraction. 

Inside the Jeffries tube, the air was oppressive and hot. Ventilation was already meager in the tubes when the ship was functioning, but with life support barely clinging on, getting inside one of the tubes was like stepping into a sauna. 

The climb lasted for five minutes, and by the time he emerged at the bridge, sweat was dripping down his temples and his uniform adhered to his back. 

The night crew stood meekly at their stations, a few of them almost asleep on their feet. All of them jolted at once when he appeared, coming to attention with wide-eyed, tight-lipped expressions. 

“As you were.” Chakotay waved a hand as he passed across the bridge toward the ready room. 

He paused at the door of the ready room, his heart palpitating. These days, it was a toss-up of what emotion or reaction he might get from Kathryn. As the days staggered on, each one darker and more painful than the last, he feared what cliff of madness these incessant attacks might bring her to. She was capable of such strength and determination, but those same qualities held the ability to break her. 

Chakotay pressed the doorbell. He waited only a moment before her beckon opened the doors. 

He stepped inside, squinting through the darkness to find her silhouette at the windows across the room.   

“Captain.”

She slowly turned to face him. The padd hanging limply between her hands cast pale blue light across her dirt and grease stained face. She had discarded her jacket and collared shirt, leaving her shoulders bare aside from the straps of her undershirt. 

“Commander … Thank you for coming. I realize it’s not any easy job getting here from the quarters anymore.”

“It was no problem.”

She gave him a thin smile, and turned back to the window. Her finger danced over the padd, eliciting high-pitched beeps from the device.

Chakotay advanced across the room, keeping his gaze trained on the back of her head. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” He asked.

“Mm.” She hummed low, her eyebrow flicking upward. 

A frown tugged at Chakotay’s brow as a sense of urgency drew him closer to her. She’d called him here for a reason. She wouldn’t waste his time on meaningless conversation, even if it was for the simple pleasure of company in the midst of pain and hunger, the threat of death. 

“I’ve asked you this before.” She said, her gaze not moving from the padd. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He replied, without hesitation. 

“But you question my decision to keep going through Krenim space.”

Chakotay began to sigh, but she lifted a stiff hand to stop him. Her sharp, blue eyes at last jumped to meet his, searing into him with raw emotion. 

“I have to admit.” She said, “I felt betrayed when you suggested that we split up the crew and abandon Voyager.”

“We’re beyond the point of questioning our decisions.” Chakotay said, “We’re here now, and at this point, I don’t think it’s any safer to turn back.”

“I won’t admit defeat.” She said, “But I have to be honest with you, Chakotay, I wouldn’t blame you if you felt your trust in my command decisions has been broken.”

Chakotay glanced toward the stars racing past them, disquieted by the current of self-doubt he saw in her eyes. Even in the darkest times, it wasn’t like her to question herself.

“What do you hope to gain by this?” He asked. 

There was a long pause before she set the padd on the couch and turned fully to face him. His eyes crept back to hers, pulse quickening at the intensity in her gaze. 

“Do you think we’re going to die, Chakotay?” She whispered, “Be honest.”

“You said it yourself; failure isn’t an option.”

“I  _ said _ , be honest.”

“We’re waging war alone.” Chakotay said, “Our troops our hungry, hurting, and running out of hope. Even the greatest warrior has to acknowledge the possibility of death at some point.”

She nodded, tongue working methodically across her lower lip. Her arms crossed under her breasts, nails taut against her own skin. 

“So, this is to be our end.” She whispered.

“I wouldn’t say so just yet.”

“You’re only saying that to ease my conscience.”

“And maybe you only asked me here searching for redemption. My forgiveness won’t change our situation, Kathryn.”

“But it might change just how guilty I feel about it.” She snapped, color rushing to her cheeks. 

Chakotay’s swallowed hard as she lowered her head, coppery waves of hair falling like a curtain over her wounded expression. 

“I need you, damnit.” She whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion, “I need your support, and your strength.”

“You have it.”

She drew in a deep breath, and turned her back to him. She combed her hair back from her face with a coarse stroke of her hands, and lifted her chin a notch. Her hands went to her hips, regaining the posture of captain. 

“Sit down.” She said, quietly. 

Chakotay hesitated, confused by the request. This conversation wasn’t one to be had while sitting, and relaxation was a luxury they couldn’t afford. But he took a seat on the couch as he’d been told, not wanting to disquiet her any further. 

Kathryn’s hands slid from her hips, disappearing from his view in front of her body. He watched her for only a few moments, perplexed by the movement of her hands in front of her, before he realized what she was doing. 

Before the words of protest could rise from his throat, her trousers sagged from her hips and down her thighs. She bent, pushing them all the way to her ankles and displaying her rounded backside, clothed only in a pair of gray, cotton panties. 

“Kathryn-” He began, sitting forward on the edge of the couch. 

She turned to face him, kicking the pants from her ankles with needless force. Her face was stoic with determination, her cheeks faintly pink beneath the sheen of sweat and grease. 

“Don’t argue with me.” She said, “We’ve been captain and first officer long enough to know what we want from each other.”

“This isn’t like you.” He said, gathering his ire despite her command, “You would never put your personal desires above command-”

“This isn’t a normal situation.”

She marched up to the edge of the couch, standing directly between his knees. He leaned back, heart jolting to a wild gallop. He’d spent more hours than he cared to admit thinking about what was underneath her uniform, but now that it was within his reach, he couldn’t bring himself to plow ahead without question. 

“You’re stressed.” He whispered, “You’ve haven’t slept properly in days, and I can’t remember the last time you ate dinner. You’re not thinking.”

“Oh, but I am.” She said, “I’m thinking more clearly now than ever before. This ship is coming apart, Chakotay, and we’re going down with it. Do you want to die with everything that’s between us unsaid?”

“We’re not going to die, and you might regret this.”

“Stop balking.” She snapped. She grabbed his hand and yanked it to her crotch, forcing his palm over the warm mound just beneath her panties. “I know you want this.”

He resisted, clinging to his chivalry for a few trembling moments before his resolve buckled to the desire pouring into his chest. He grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her down onto his lap. Their chests collided as she spilled over his thighs, her hands clutching at his shoulders to support herself. Clutching her cheek, he pulled her down into a harsh, biting kiss. 

She groaned into his mouth, her teeth lashing back when his kiss came ardent and severe. Her hips rocked against him, grinding down on his swelling cock. 

He grasped at her hips before plunging lower, all sense of aplomb disappearing beyond the event horizon of pounding, aching need. His palms stretched over her backside, fingers digging into the ample flesh and dragging her hard against him. She whimpered into his mouth, urging the heaving, suffocating thoughts branding their way across his brain. 

Need, more demanding, and aching, and powerful than he had ever felt before, surged through his veins like a flash flood, burying his good intentions and sweeping him away. 

He pawed beneath her undershirt, hungry to feel the delicacy of her skin. She pulled the shirt over her head, leaving her breasts heaving against the thin barrier of her bra. He pulled at the fabric, ripping the straps from her shoulders and baring her breasts to the hot press of his mouth. 

She moaned aloud, her head falling back as he clamped his mouth around one dusky, pink nipple. Her fingernails delved through his hair and over his skull, pressing his face to her chest in ardent pleasure. 

“Yes …” She panted, her hips rolling harder against his crotch. 

He thoroughly suckled one breast before moving to the other. His fingers replaced his mouth against the first, wet and swollen nipple, his thumb circling in a rough motions against the tender flesh. She moaned as he nibbled at the other, bringing it to stinging, flushed hardness. 

He released her nipple, and kissed his way up her chest to the sweet arch of her neck. Gathering her breasts in his palms, he nipped at her throat, feeling the swell and gasp of her lungs beneath. 

She wiggled against him, drawing his attention back to her crotch rotating against his erection. He slid one hand from her breasts, and down her stomach, searching for the elastic waistband of her panties. Her belly trembled beneath the glide of his hand, and her fevered thrusting eased to a halt. His breath gusted hot against her neck as he delved his fingers below the thin fabric, to her soft, slick labia. 

A tremble rippled through her, and he heard a small, sharp intake at the gentle stroke of his fingers. He bit back a whimper of his own as his fingers slid along the arousal glazed slit to find her swollen clitoris. She was gushing wetness, moaning to his touch, but when he finally reached her clit and dragged his fingers in a languid circle around it, she jumped against his chest and uttered a ragged cry. 

“Chakotay.” She rasped, clutching at his shoulders. 

He lifted his face from her neck, meeting her eyes for the first time since the encounter had begun. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks painted pink. Despite the dismal lighting and the dirt on her cheeks, she had never been more beautiful or enticing. 

She rose to her knees, and pushed the underwear from her hips. He cupped at her crotch as she wrangled the underwear from her legs and settled back down against his lap. As she bent to impart another hard, needy kiss, he slipped a finger into the hot, slick opening. She gasped quietly against his mouth, hips rolling toward the slow penetration. 

He drew in a trembling breath as his finger slid to the knuckle into her hot, wet arousal. 

“Jesus …” He whispered, his voice a strangled grunt. 

She panted against his ear, each breath coming hotter and harder than the last. She braced her hand against the glass window behind them, and thrust languidly against his hand. 

“Please, Chakotay …” She moaned. 

His eyes slipped shut as his last chance to stop this hasty decision flitted out the window. The fate of this night was sealed with that single, lustful whisper into his ear. He could feel himself free-falling toward blissful oblivion, where the only thing that mattered was his cock buried inside her, the pleasure rushing in to claim him. 

He withdrew his hand from her, and grabbed her by the hips, swinging her onto her back across the couch cushions. She fell back without a fight, her hair spilling around her face like a halo, her body arching and trembling as he prowled over her. Her legs fell open, one dangling over the edge of the couch to make room for his body crowding over her. 

As he pressed a kiss to her pink, parted lips, he thumbed open the fasten of his trousers. Shoving fabric away from his burgeoning erection, he seized the base and guided it to her slick opening. His execution lacked finesse, but she didn’t seem to care how uncouth or rough the first thrust was. She moaned a loud affirmative as he plunged into her wet, tight body. 

The first thrust catapulted him into another world entirely, a place where every nerve in his body was humming, and the pleasure was streaking hot and sudden to his belly. Her body clutched velvet and wet around him, every ripple vibrating through his cock and down to his fingertips. Her whimpers were the only sound he could hear, even the growl of the engines and the groan of bulkheads he had grown so accustomed to fading away into white noise. 

He pushed himself up on his elbow so that he could see her face. Her eyes rolled back and shut, and her mouth poised open, uttering low moans, her tongue darting against her lips.  Her hands braced against his chest, rhythmically clutching and pushing as his cock seated to the hilt with every thrust. Her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking and pulling him tight against her. 

He bent to kiss her, enticed by the full, pink swell of her lower lip and the steady issue of sweet moans. She latched onto his mouth, kissing back with fiery passion that took his breath from him. 

His thrusts grew ragged as pleasure swelled low in his belly, threatening climax. The moments slipped away quick and tangled in heady arousal, his cock aching for release, his brain urging time to slow for him. 

She clutched at his hips, eager and writhing for his unbridled passion. 

“Don’t stop.” She panted. 

He clutched her cheek, resting his forehead against hers. Trying vainly to slow his breathing. 

“I need more.” He whispered. 

“More?” 

“More time.”

“There’s always more time.” She murmured, stroking his cheek, “Right now I need this. Please, Chakotay, don’t stop.”

He lifted his forehead from hers, meeting her stormy, blue eyes in the pale light of the stars. She jostled beneath him, pinned hips struggling to reignite the fury of his thrusts. 

He couldn’t deny her, couldn’t deny the singing ache of his own body. 

Grasping her hip, he rolled his hips and brought their bodies flush with a smack. She threw her head back in a low moan, sending shivers coursing down his spine. 

“Yes…” She hissed, her breasts heaving with a shuddering gasp. 

He delved his fingers into her hair, and stretched her neck open to his mouth. She writhed under him as he fucked into her, and sucked at her throat, leaving tiny bruises in his wake. She was slick around him, driving the roiling pleasure in his belly to a deafening roar. Heat rolled in waves down his body, each one coming in harder and faster. The brink of orgasm rushed to greet him, dragging his hips into a faster, pounding rhythm. Their bodies smacked together with every thrust, understated only by the sound of Kathryn’s throaty whimpers winding into his ears. 

His eyes rolled back as the tide came in to swallow him. Moans burst from his lips, driven to the surface by the pleasure ricocheting through every part of his body. The spasms clutched hard and deep, excising release in thick, hot spurts, and pumping his cock into her now dripping hole until the shudders faded away. 

He collapsed against her chest, breathing laboriously. His ears rang shrill with the rush of blood and pleasure, and a tremble worked it’s way through his limbs, all the way down to his fingertips. He could feel her chest rising and falling beneath his head, and dimly, beneath skin and bone, the drum of her heart. 

He closed his eyes, expecting his better nature to rise. But he felt not a single shred of regret, no shame at compromising the professional relationship between a captain and first officer. Satisfaction slithered through him, warm and tingling down to to the marrow of his bones. 

Kathryn shifted under him, forcing him to move. As he gathered his limbs to sit upright, she darted out from underneath him and to her feet. She took two steps from the couch before he grabbed onto her wrist. 

“Where are you going?” He asked. 

She gazed down at him, as if the answer should be obvious. 

“I can’t let you go yet.” He said. 

“And why not?”

“Come here.” 

He pulled her down his lap, her back against his chest. She resisted for only a moment before he wrapped his arm around her middle, pinning her down against him. 

He nuzzled against her throat and jaw, releasing a slow, hot breath against the shell of her ear. 

“Open your legs.” He whispered. 

He heard her breath catch, felt her spine stiffen against him. For a moment, he thought she might argue, though he couldn’t conceive why. After a tense moment, she slowly parted her legs across his knees. 

Keeping one arm firmly around her waist, he slid the other hand over the ridge of her hip bone and down over the swell of her groin. She arched back against him, fighting the hold around her waist as his fingers crept slowly between her legs. 

Her breaths rushed through the silence, some of them punctuated by a low whimper. He reasserted his hold around her as he slid his first two fingers between her labia. The slick folds parted to his caress, and he felt his own release and her arousal dripping from her. He swirled his fingers through the sticky mess and back up to her engorged, puffy clit. 

A whimper darted from her lips, and her hips jerked as he gently circled the swollen, tender bud of flesh. She trembled in his lap, arms flexing under the restraint of his forearm. 

“Ohh …” She moaned. 

Chakotay bit his lower lip in concentration as he stroked against her clitoris, keeping the pace slow and steady. She would come long and hard - but only after he had pleasured her thoroughly and she was desperate for it. 

Already she resisted his gradual ministrations, her hips flexing and rolling against his fingertips in search of more persistent pleasuring. A moan ground from her throat when her thrusting had little effect. She tried to sit forward, but he tightened his grip across her chest, trapping her tight against him. 

“Sit still.” He whispered to her. 

“Mm.” She moaned. 

She sank lower in his lap, levering her hips up against the swirl of his fingers.

He dragged his fingers down the cleft, gathering cum and arousal and smearing it over her clit and labia. She trembled, her hips tensing, her legs collapsing inward as the ache filled her. 

His fingers left her clitoris to push her legs back open, drawing a petulant moan from the back of her throat. He clutched her inner thigh, pressing her legs wide apart, and enjoying the view of her squirming hips and her heaving breasts plumped above the restraint of his forearm. 

“Please …” She panted. 

He acquiesced, bringing his fingertips back to her clitoris. When he resumed stroking her, his touch came harder and faster. His fingertips circled her clit in a unrelenting motion, pushing her past squirming and moaning to stiff anticipation and muted gulps of pleasure. She arched taut against him, her body shaking but still as he rubbed her to the brink of orgasm. 

Her pleasure came swift and sudden, her hips bolting against the touch of his hand. The next few moments were filled with her gasping, thready moans, and the convulsive pleasure running the course of her body a dozen times. She bucked under his grip, her fingers clutching and tearing at his forearm, her head tossing against his shoulder as each wave of pleasure hit her hard. 

He stroked her until she was wilted and trembling in his lap, her whimpers coming low and sweet like a the mewl of a kitten. Her legs folded together, trapping his hand between her thighs. He pulled his fingers free, and let them come to rest benignly against her side. 

Silence engulfed them. 

Kathryn’s head tilted down against his bicep, and her fingers clung to his forearm. She curled tighter against him as her breathing slowed. 

At last, the sound of engines grinding along returned to him. He remembered where they were, but he closed his eyes against the routine thoughts of survival and dread. He had to cling to this moment a little longer, had to believe they were going to be okay as long as they had each other. 

She was the first to move. 

He released her without argument, aware he didn’t have the power to hold her still any longer. She rose to her feet, scraping her hair back from her face, wiping a tear in the process. She sniffed softly, and pressed a hand over her mouth. 

“Is that why you called me here?” He asked, his voice shattering the tranquility their pleasure had created. 

“Yes.” She replied, lifting her chin. 

“What happens now?”

She turned to face him, her expression grim and resolute. 

“You go back to your quarters like the good first officer that you are, and you show up for your duty shift tomorrow, ready to face the next Krenim attack.”

“And we never speak of this again?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Chakotay hesitated, bewildered by her aggressive expression paired with the gentility of that last remark. 

“This ship isn’t the place for romance, Commander.” Kathryn said, “I don’t expect you to show up with roses and chocolates every time you want to fuck.”

He clenched his jaw as realization dawned. 

“I see.” He said, tautly.

“You’re a chivalrous man.” She said, with a wave of her hand. “And I know you respect me. But let’s not fool ourselves into thinking that we’re going to have a normal relationship.”

“Just because we’re in the position that we are doesn’t mean that we can’t try.”

“I’ve seen how you look at me.” She said, her eyebrow rising, “From day one. We can step past the formalities now. If you have a day like I just did, and you feel like you need for company …” She spread her hands to indicate the availability of the ready room. 

“I know it doesn’t matter now, but I didn’t have the same intentions as you did when I came here.” Chakotay said, rising from the couch. 

Her chin balanced on her knuckles, and her eyes watched discreetly as he pulled his trousers up around his hips. 

“What were your intentions … at three in the morning?” She asked. 

“To be there for you because I know how hard this has been.”

“And you were … exactly how I wanted you to be. Don’t pretend to feel deceived. There were no false pretenses. I told you exactly what I wanted, and you complied.”

“I don’t feel deceived.” Chakotay said, “Maybe a bit trampled.”

“Trampled?” She whispered. 

“I have real feelings for you, Kathryn.” He said, “And they reach beyond company. If that’s not what you want from me, I can’t let this go on.”

Her jaw stiffened, and her eyes sparked with a hint of anger. But she didn’t argue. 

“Fine.” She said, tersely, “You have the right to that decision.”

“And you?”

She blinked, perplexed. 

“What about me?”

“Is all you want from me …?” He motioned to the ready room couch with a rigid hand. 

“I don’t have time to think about romance, Chakotay.” She said, her tone growing defensive, “I am the captain of this ship, and I have responsibilities. Maybe you’re naive enough to believe we could face this environment as a couple, but I know what war and loss does to people.”

“You think I don’t know about loss?”

“I think you’re resilient, and kind, and good.” She said, the words now trembling, her eyes filling with tears. “I think letting you that close to me would destroy you.”

“What are you talking about?” Chakotay insisted, “There’s nothing that we haven’t faced together in the last four years.”

“A captain goes down with the ship, Chakotay.” She whispered, “And this ship is going down. I can’t let you go down with us.”

He stared at her, his body flashing cold with shock as she gathered her clothes from the ground and departed to the bathroom attached to the ready room. 

Her departure left the room achingly empty, all the sensations and heat of their passion drained away and replaced by the horror of reality. There was no other option but to gather up the battered pieces of his heart and leave. He knew her well enough to realize this wasn’t a fight he would win. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Chakotay marched across the room to the door. It hissed open before him, revealing his weary expression to the night crew. They all stared at him for a moment, before rushing to turn back to their post, pretending they weren’t seeing what they all knew they were seeing. 

Chakotay walked across the bridge, gathering his dignity in his trembling fists. All of them were like statues, their eyes ducking to avoid his as he moved between them. 

“As you were.” He muttered, just before ducking back into the Jeffries tube. 

The hatch slammed shut behind him, plunging him into the suffocating darkness that stretched on into the rest of the battered ship. He closed his eyes and crawled forward. He went slow and steady, no rush to get back to the lonely space of his quarters. He had all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


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